


The First Step

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, Episode Related: Sentinel Too, First Times, M/M, Part Two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 01:30:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair takes the first step.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Step

**Author's Note:**

> This story was previously published in "Come To Your Senses 14", though this version is not exactly the same. 
> 
> This story is set post S2P2 with vague spoilers for fourth season. I sat down to write a PWP, but Jim and Blair wanted to try to work through a few things. So, there you have it, once again, I'm just the messenger. 

## The First Step

by JC

Author's webpage: <http://www.skeeter63.org/jayci/>

Author's disclaimer: The characters from the TV series "The Sentinel" are not my property, and I am not making money off of them. That's it.

* * *

THE FIRST STEP by J.C. 

The clock read 2:12 in the morning when Blair's foot touched the first step. His tread was light and uncertain, his legs wobbly as he climbed upwards. He knew that he was nervous, and was sure that he had good reason to be, but it wasn't his thoughts, or the decision that he had made, that was making him shaky. It was the idea of actually taking that decision up those stairs. 

It was very rare that he breached the upper sanctum, venturing into Jim's room. It was almost as rare for Jim to cross the threshold into _his_ room. They'd talked countless times over the railing, or with Jim leaning against the doorframe of Blair's claimed space, and even on those same stairs. But usually they came together in the neutral territory of the living room or kitchen--shared spaces--most times with friendly banter and pleasant conversation. When Blair considered that distinction, it seemed strange. Sure, everyone needs privacy--their own domain--but as much time as they spent in each other's actual _physical_ personal space, it seemed all the more odd. 

Of course, Jim had perpetrated the ultimate invasion of Blair's corner of the world, which had ended with him boxing up all of Blair's belongings, and kicking him out, to boot. 

Because of Alex. She had sent them on a little detour. Wherever they had been headed before she came along, they were no longer headed there. At least not along the same path. They had been left stirred up and...unsettled. And Blair was tired of it. Tired of the feelings that made him get in Jim's face so much recently. Tired, too, of the pretense of ease that they played out a lot of the time. 

Even so, with all of that, Blair couldn't help thinking that some things never change. 

He still trusted Jim with his life. Hell, he had no choice in that. Without Jim, he would have no life. No one else would have been able to bring him back from Death's cold, wet grip. And they still worked well together, in some ways better than ever. Jim seemed to acknowledge him more, his contributions, and his particular know-how--had even offered apologies, something almost unheard of in their previous existence. Their _pre-Alex_ existence. 

And he still loved Jim with all of his heart. 

Which brought him to climbing the stairs to Jim's bedroom in the middle of the night, with his pulse racing and his blood pounding, to see what would come next. He figured he may not be able to get everything he wanted--maybe some, maybe even none--but at least he'd _know_. It had gotten unbearable to think of starting another day, lying down there, listening for signs of life above him, without knowing how much life there was between them. That need to know had pushed him out of his bed, carried him across the room, and up the stairs, still wearing only the thin cotton pants and tee-shirt that he had put on to go to sleep. 

As he hit the top step, something else occurred to him. In an earlier time, Jim would have met him on that first stair, spurred to action by his partner's erratic vital signs. But in recent times, Jim kept his distance in those little ways. Blair sighed, then took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. 

The clock on Jim's nightstand read 2:17. 

Jim was lying on his back underneath a blanket, hands behind his head, facing up to the ceiling, but his eyes were closed as far as Blair could tell. Yet before the younger man could open his mouth, a rough voice said, "What is it, Sandburg?" 

Blair started a little, though he wasn't really surprised. He had been sure all along that Jim had heard him approach. "Can we talk?" 

"Talk?" 

"Yeah, exchange words, have a conversation?" 

"I understand the concept," Jim replied somewhat wearily. "What I meant was that we spent the evening together. We had dinner, you did a little work, I read the paper, we watched a game and the news, and _now_ you want to talk?" 

"Yeah, that's about it." Blair was unable to keep an even tone, and his voice shook. 

Jim turned his head to face Blair. "What's going on? Is something wrong? Are you okay?" 

Blair wanted to scream, 'Don't you hear how crazy my heart sounds? How hard I'm trying to control my breathing? How the blood is rushing frantically through my veins? Do I _sound_ okay?' But in that same shaky voice, he just said, "Yes...no...", unsure exactly which question he was answering, and suddenly he felt unable to hold up under the pressure of it, sinking to the ground, legs folding under him, his back dragging against the rough-textured wall behind him. 

"It hurts." 

Jim was out of the bed, crouched on the floor, his hand on Blair's shoulder before the younger man could catch his next breath. "Where?" 

A small, sad smile crossed Blair's face at that. 'Oh yeah, some things never change.' 

When there was no answer, Jim whispered insistently, " _Blair_ , where is the _pain_?" 

Overwhelmed, Blair closed his eyes, then reached out blindly for Jim's hand and placed it over his heart. "Here." 

Jim's fingers pressed gingerly on the flesh beneath his hand, but saw no sign that that caused Blair any discomfort. He raised the tee-shirt to see the bare skin. Again, Blair pressed his friend's hand flat, this time against his naked chest. 

"In here, Jim. The pain's _in here_." 

As if all the air had been sucked out of him, Jim just sagged, landing hard on his butt, his hand trailing down to settle on Blair's thigh. 

"I know, Chief. Shit...I know." 

"You know?" Blair repeated, wondering what Jim thought he knew. 

"How could I _not_ know? I fucked up worse than any partner could have, worse than any _friend_ could have." 

Blair bit back the hysterical sounds threatening to erupt from inside him. Jim was talking about Alex, of course. Alex had ripped through their lives, wreaking havoc, but she was _gone_. Not his problem anymore. What he felt for Jim, though, that was still there-- _strong_. He covered Jim's hand with his own, squeezing the fingers tightly. 

"No, Jim. That's not it. Not exactly. It's a lot of stuff, I guess. I always thought that things would work out, you know. I couldn't say how they would end up--but I figured things would be good. I mean, these past years have been the best I've ever had. Then Alex..." squeezing Jim's hand again, "...came along and knocked us on our asses, but we've picked ourselves up, dusted off, and started moving on. Still, we seem so _apart_ now, even when we're together, even just hanging out." 

He took a few deep breaths, enjoying the touch of Jim's hand that was under his creating a warm patch on his leg, before continuing. "You see, I always thought that no matter what happened, we'd always be _close_ , even if we did end up apart. Do you know what I mean?" 

Jim frowned. He didn't want to think about being apart from Blair--not under any circumstances--especially after what they'd been through. He couldn't even say that he had really been thinking about it when he had packed all of Blair's stuff up that sad, dark day that _still_ wasn't far enough in the past to suit him. And with everything in him, he felt the closeness was still there. 

So he had to ask. "But we are still close, aren't we?" 

Blair lifted their joined hands, giving a gentle affirmative squeeze as he nodded. "Yeah, we are. But there's something off between us, something..." He rested their hands on the empty floor space between their bodies. 

"Blair, I'm... sorry." 

"Jim, this has nothing to do with you, or rather it's mostly about me, or... Shit. Look, from the beginning, I've felt a lot for you. At first, there was probably a lot of big brother stuff going on. Hell, if you get down to it, maybe even a father figure thing. You know, a stand-up, do-right guy who's always looking out for you, caring about you. You gave me that. And I'll admit that there was a little hero-worship. You being the 'living embodiment' and everything. A dream come true, really. And you're still a hero to me. But then we got to be partners, and best friends..." 

He pulled his hand away, clenching it into a fist, and Jim didn't resist, but when he rested it on his leg, Jim covered it once more with a large, warm hand. Blair kept talking, but didn't try to break the contact again. 

"I would have let it go...was prepared to just go with the flow, but there's so much that seems to be unsettled between us. I have to address this--have to know _something_. Just can't stand waiting for that other shoe to drop." 

"What are you talking about?" 

"The attraction thing." 

Jim snatched his hand away as if Blair's fist underneath it had suddenly burst into flames. Blair closed his eyes at the pain of that, and just listened to the incredulous quaver as Jim spoke. 

"Attraction thing?" 

Swallowing hard, Blair answered, his voice flat and monotone. "Yeah, you know, attraction. Physical feelings, sexual feelings...in this case from one man about another." Blair thought it was the coldest he had ever felt. 

"How did you know?" 

"What do you mean 'How did I know'?" 

"How did you know that I felt that way?" 

"Jim..." 

But Jim didn't seem to hear him. 

"I thought I'd been so careful. Over the years, I've learned how to be careful. With my father...in the military--always toeing the line, denying that there could be one _more_ thing different about me. Denial, repression, you know..." The laughter was harsh. "Yeah, of course, _you_ know--you've seen it up close and personal." The ensuing sigh was almost just as harsh. "The one time I came close was in Peru--with Incacha. Every time he touched me, or spoke to me, I felt...healed in a way. But I was too focused. My senses kicked in, and I found myself with the job of protecting the pass. Mind, body, and soul seemed trained on that objective. But I wanted him...more of those healing words and touches...wanted to give myself up to that." 

Jim's hands clenched and unclenched, forming loose fists for a moment, silently admitting that for all he had felt, Incacha had never had his heart. 

"When I came back home, I joined the police--toeing the line, again. Jeez, I'm a sick son of a bitch, aren't I? Finally free from the jungle, the army, _and_ my father, and still not allowing myself _freedom_." 

A dull thump sounded as Jim hit the floor with his fist to punctuate that point, then he quickly moved on. 

"Then after losing you... _almost_ losing you...every time I turned around, I noticed how _beautiful_ you were. It wasn't really sexual, at first. I mean, I've cared about you for a long time, you know that, and we've had close calls on the job before, but this time you _died_. And there you were--so beautifully _alive_. I thought that maybe it was just because I was so glad about that, but then, whenever I was near you, I wanted to touch you. And every time I touched you, I wanted more. And I hated myself. I mean, I'm used to touching you so often that I don't even think about it, and all of a sudden I was getting this secret thrill, and I felt like I was violating you. So, I tried to step back a little. I thought I was being so careful. How did you _know_?" 

Blair's mind was reeling. Was that what had seemed so wrong all along? That they had both balled up their feelings for one another, all twisted up with pain and frustration and longing, and dumped the whole mess between them, unacknowledged and unquestioned? Blair cringed at the thought of so much time wasted. He reached out and laid a hand on Jim's bare thigh below the leg of his boxers. 

"I didn't know...'til now." He could feel Jim's muscles go tense beneath his palm. 

"Fuck. Was this some kind of psychoanalytical trick, Sandburg?" 

"No, Jim. _No way_." Blair stroked Jim's leg lightly with his fingertips, maintaining the rhythm and contact as he continued. "I won't lie and say that I hadn't wondered about things. Your upbringing, your choosing to immerse yourself in rigid environments, your lack of success with relationships, even though you are a caring guy who craves contact and doesn't seem to fear commitment. All of that, coupled with your," Blair let himself smile, "tendencies for denial and repression, made me wonder if maybe you weren't focusing your attentions in the wrong direction." 

"I don't know, Sandburg," Jim growled. "Sounds pretty psychoanalytical to me." 

Blair sighed, "So shoot me, I analyze things. But I didn't just trick you. I never thought that you would feel that way about _me_. 'Although I fantasized about it', he said to himself. "Jim, I was going to tell you about _my_ feelings...about you. How _I'm_ attracted to _you_. How I've moved past all that other stuff over the years, and now I'm..." Blair swallowed, trying to lubricate his tight, dry throat, and took a deep breath so that he would have enough air to get his next words out. "I'm in love with you." 

Having gotten that out, he rushed on. "And I had no idea what to _do_ about it. I guess I still don't, but damn, it felt good to _say_ it. And somehow we can work through this, right? I mean, obviously, you don't hate me, and you're not all tense anymore, so you're not about to throttle me, so...we can work through this, right? We've tried to move on, but ever since we got thrown off that wild Alex ride, we've been dragging this baggage between us. Now we just have to sort it out, and deal with it. And things can be on track between us again. I mean..." 

Blair stopped, derailed by the thought that things still wouldn't be right, that they would still be fairly one-sided. There was a mutual physical attraction, but Blair had his _heart_ all wrapped up in it as well. "Damn." Not realizing that he had muttered the curse out loud. 

"You're right, Chief." 

"I am? Right about what?" Blair couldn't figure out what Jim had latched onto amidst al of that babbling. 

"That's there's too much stuff between us--too many things unresolved, unquestioned, unsaid...but we can fix it. All you have to do is help me." 

"Help you how?" 

"Well, remember what you said to me once? I _have_ needed you to help me find out who I am." He moved on, not wanting to pause enough to give Blair time to fully flash back to that super tense moment in the bullpen--when Alex's aura seemed to be invading the very atmosphere around them. "So first, I'll need your help with finally crossing that line I've been afraid of all my life." 

Blair had a sudden weird vision of himself as professor of a course entitled 'Life as a Gay Man 101', with hands on sexual lessons for extra credit--but it ended up with him left with a hole where his heart used to be as Jim went on to put his learned subject matter to practical use. Plus, it wasn't as if he was exactly qualified to teach such a course, anyway. 

"Jim, wait. This may not--" 

"Chief, let me finish." At Blair's nod, Jim went on. "Second, I love you, too. Third, I need to know what exactly you want from this...from us. Fourth--" 

"Jim, stop it. Good grief. Lemme catch up. You say _I_ talk stuff to death. We need to take this one step at a time, okay? Wait a minute...back up. When you say you love me, do you mean _love me_ love me?" 

When Jim smiled, Blair would have sworn it lit up the whole room. "Yep." 

"You...Jim Ellison..." 

"Loves you, Blair Sandburg." 

"Me?" 

Jim frowned. "What, Chief? I may be a hard-ass sometimes, but I _am_ capable of love." He reached out and touched Blair's face, tracing a line down his cheek to his neck. "And you are so easy to love." 

Blair grabbed that hand, and lifted his other to Jim's brow, to smooth away the furrows. "Man..." 

"What?" 

"I had forgotten how good being in love can feel. But, you know, Jim, I can't really help you with your...choices. You have to make those decisions yourself. But I'll tell you that you should give yourself the freedom to follow your heart. And maybe it isn't a good idea to just jump into something with me, until you're sure about all of that, because to be honest, I've never really done this before. And as for your last question... I would want a lot out of something with you." 

Jim tripped on one of Blair's statements. "Never done what? Been with a man?" 

Laughing, Blair said, "Why do I always get that reaction?" He shrugged a little. "I've dated some, and fooled around some, but nothing like all the way, and nothing close to being in love. And I haven't even dated _any_ guys since I moved in here." 

"Why not? Did you think that I would care about that?" 

"Well, I decided that I had enough trouble with explaining to _women_ that I had to cut things short because of 'Jim' this and 'Jim' that. I didn't think that it would play any better telling it to a guy. Didn't seem worth the hassle. Plus, I didn't want to do anything that might reflect badly on you and make trouble for you at the station." 

"Jesus, Sandburg." 

"Jim, it's okay. It's not like I've been lacking for company. You know that. And you _do_ keep me pretty busy." 

"Yeah, it's been a helluva four years." 

"Understatement, man. And it's been a helluva night. Why don't I go back down and let you get some rest? I think even _I'm_ all talked out, now." 

"Chief?" Jim raised their joined hands in the air towards his face, then stopped halfway, lowering them, and caressed his friend's broad palm with his thumb, scratching lightly with the nail. At Blair's questioning look, he said, "Nothing. Go to sleep. We'll talk more tomorrow, right?" 

Blair nodded, removing his hand from Jim's grasp, shivering slightly as he rubbed both hands quickly a few times on his legs. "Sure, Jim. But we're okay. One step at a time." 

"Are you sure? You're not upset about all of this? 'Cause you're trembling." 

Blair closed his eyes, leaning his head against the wall behind him. "Yeah, I..." He chuckled, but it was soft and wavering. 

"What, Chief?" 

'What the hell', Blair thought, 'I can easily beat a hasty retreat down these stairs.' That low, hesitant laugh escaped him again. "I just want to touch you _so_ bad." 

Jim didn't understand why that seemed to be a problem, although he could understand how the want of it could make a man shaky. He felt a little shaky himself. But, Blair didn't need to ask permission, and Jim decided to show Blair that it was all right. Cut to the chase, as it were. He took Blair's hand and pressed it to his groin, closing the fingers around his hard flesh. 

"How's that?" 

"Shit, Jim." Blair gripped Jim's erection tightly, but other than that he didn't move. The feel of Jim's hard heat through the material of the boxers caught Blair by surprise. He couldn't believe he had been missing all of that while they had been sitting so close in the dark. 

Jim loosened Blair's grip slightly. "Easy, Chief. I guess that means it's okay." 

Blair didn't say anything more, he just worked his way slowly along Jim's length, stroking up and down, and Jim could feel the twin sensations of Blair's hand--strong fingers maneuvering underneath his, strong palm sliding along his hard-on. As his partner increased the tempo, varying the pressure of his touch, Jim felt the urgency building, pushing him closer towards the edge, until his whole body tensed. 

The excitement was building inside Blair as well. He was not only touching Jim, but also pleasuring him. It was so far removed from how he thought the night would end, but the sweet ache in his groin, and the emotional thrill that seemed to fill the rest of him, was testament to how wonderful it all was to him. As Jim's body went stiff beside him, Blair could feel the pulses start in the other man's cock, and then, Jim gasped out loud. The sounds could have been curses or praises or just passionate moans, but Blair couldn't tell. He couldn't hear anything over the pounding of blood thrumming a beat in his chest and between his legs. And when Jim came, body convulsing then relaxing, boxers growing damp beneath his touch, the rush was like a roar in his ears. The feel of wet lightning on his palm, streaking toward his fingers until his fingertips burned brought him back. 

He turned his head and saw Jim suckling on his thumb, and he moaned at the sight, hissing as the thumb popped wetly from the slick heat of his partner's mouth. Then Jim pulled Blair by the arm, until Blair was half-sprawled on top of him, and they were face to face. 

"I'm going to go clean up, but I don't want you to go anywhere. Hear me? Except to get in that bed." 

Blair watched Jim's lips move, giving him an order that he had no intentions of disobeying, and laughed to himself when he realized that he had touched Jim's cock, brought him to climax, and still hadn't kissed those lips. 

"Hey, Jim, anybody ever tell you that you talk too much?" he whispered. 

Before Jim could speak the obvious answer of 'no', Blair leaned closer and they were kissing. It was the sweetest taste Blair had ever known, and it was finally his to sample at will. When they broke free, faces close together, each breathing in the air that the other breathed out, Blair smiled. He felt good, even with his dick still hard, and poking against Jim's bare thigh. 

"I have a better idea. How about _we_ get in that bed. I think I can come up with a way to get you clean, and then we can take it from there." 

"Moving a little fast, aren't you, Chief? I thought we were going to get some sleep, and then talk things over in the morning." 

"Oh yeah, says the man who's got _his_ load cooling in his shorts, leaving me like _this_." He moved in a slow grind on Jim's leg. 

"You're right. Can't have that. Bed, Sandburg." 

"What ever happened to letting the Guide guide?" 

"Fine. Where do _you_ want to start?" 

Getting to his feet, then helping Jim to his, Blair gave him a hug as they stood close together, before leading him over to the bed. He lay down, pulling Jim down beside him, then kissed him lightly on the lips. As he stared into the crystal blue eyes, he said, "I love you." Then, he rolled on top of Jim's long, hard body, and with confidence and passion proceeded to show it. 

The clock read 2:52. 

THE END 


End file.
